Breathe Again
by picrusher
Summary: When Jack Crusher died a year earlier, Jean-Luc all but disappeared from Beverly's life. When he did, he left an aching empty void in her chest that only he can refill. Now she needs him more than ever. Is he brave enough to come home? And if he does, can he fix what he broke so long ago? P/C
1. all i have, all i need

**A/N:** So I wrote this as a part of a Secret Santa thing on the P/C fanfiction forum. Really all my pieces seem to come there lately. Anyway, one of the choices the recipient offered was something set between Jack's death and the first season. She also mentioned something perhaps with Walker. Also she didn't want anything with too much space travel or negotiations or technical stuff or too melodrama-y. So I tried my best to fit those parameters. I hope you like it because it was actually kind of cathartic for me to write for whatever reason. Oh and like most of my things I based this one off a song. The song I chose was Breathe Again by Sara Bareilles. Look it up if you have a second and listen to it while reading; it's an amazing song.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters just the story idea.

…

"_facing the ghosts that decide if the fire inside still burns_

_all I have, all i need, he's the air i would kill to breathe_

_holds my love in his hands, still i'm searching for something_

_out of breath, i am left hoping someday i'll breathe again_

_i'll breathe again…"_

_- breathe again, sara bareilles_

…

**Breathe Again**

**1. all i have, all i need…**

She sat alone on a bench in their favorite park and watched the two little boys as they played quietly on the playground nearby. They seemed quite content for about a minute and a half but she could see, even from a distance, that the pull of the earth was too much for them to resist. Jumping to their feet, the boys looked at each other then took off in a sprint toward a hill bordering the playground. After chasing each other for a few minutes they tore back down the slope, their carefree laughter tumbling with them through the dirt. The sound made her smile. It had been such a long time since she'd heard him laugh. It was a refreshing sound to her ears.

Closing her eyes, she absorbed the moment and let her heart beat freely for the first time in months. As her body began to relax, a gentle breeze brushed against her skin, carrying with it a scent she hadn't encountered in a long time. Her eyes snapped open. She spun in her seat and searched the area, frantic to find the origins of that smell…that cologne. There was only one man who wore it this well. There was really only one man she wanted to wear it. And he was the only man she needed to see more than life itself.

Suddenly a heavy hand fell hard on her shoulder, causing her to jump.

"Sorry, kid, didn't mean to startle you," the lyrical voice said.

She sighed and shook her head; her questing eyes finally halting their frenetic search to turn toward the voice. "How many times have I told you to stop calling me kid?" she groaned as she moved to fully face her companion.

The tall man scrunched his face and thought. "A few dozen perhaps," he said as he dropped onto the bench next to her.

"A few million is more like it," she bit back. A long sigh slipped past her frowning lips.

"What's the matter?"

She inhaled deeply. "Do you smell that? Or have I officially lost my mind?" she asked wearily.

He mimicked her intake of breath then turned on the bench to look at the perimeter of the park. "Are you referring to what I think you're referring to?"

"I don't know. Are you referring to…_him_?"

"Are you?"

"Stop playing games and answer the question, _old_ man."

He laughed loudly and dropped his arm around her shoulders. "You know it's impossible, Bev," he said gently once his laughter dissipated. "He's in deep, deep space. Probably the delta quadrant. You know that's how he prefers things."

Her frown deepened as she slumped against his arm. "Have you heard from him lately?" she asked quietly, hating how vulnerable and needy her voice sounded.

"I don't think I should answer that."

"Walker, please. You're my only connection to him. He won't answer any of my communiqués. I need to know he's okay."

His eyes softened as he pulled her closer. "He's fine, Beverly. I promise you that."

"You're worried about him too," she stated as plainly as if it were written in the sky. "Aren't you?"

"I hate when you do that, you know," Walker said with a roll of his eyes.

"Then you need to work on your tells."

His eyebrow rose. "My tells?"

"How else do you think I bleed you dry every week at the poker game, Walker?" She chuckled lightly.

Walker joined her laughter. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

Beverly shook her head and settled into his side. After a few moments she closed her eyes and rested her head on Walker's shoulder. The silence slid over them as easily the warm spring breeze. Once her heart had calmed a bit, Beverly opened her eyes and shifted to look at her friend.

"Next time you talk to him will you tell him I said hi?" she asked almost shyly.

"I always do, Bev."

Beverly smiled sadly and bravely nodded her head. Then, as she often did, she stowed the sadness away. Once everything was neatly filed where it should be, she stood and looked around the area. She breathed in the surrounding air one more time, hoping for another hint of his scent. When she detected none, she sighed and turned her head slightly toward the bench.

"Let's get Wes home. It's starting to get dark," she said. Shifting her head toward the playground, she called out Wesley's name then walked off in the direction of the swings.

Walker absently nodded his head in response to her statement as a poor excuse of a smile positioned itself on his lips. He stood and watched her head toward her son. As she bent to pick up the very displeased six-year-old, a gust of wind rushed by him. He turned into it, letting it blow away the heaviness that had settled in his features. It worked for a few seconds until the moment he breathed it in. As it surrounded him, his brow furrowed.

'I know that scent,' he thought.

Straightening up to his full height, he searched the area in front of him. There was a loud rustling to his right. He swore that he saw movement. Blinking a few times he shook his head to make sure his vision wasn't clouded by Beverly's wishful thinking.

Turning fully, he quickly took note of a group of nearby trees whose branches were swaying a little too violently. He knew the wind wasn't strong enough to cause that kind of displacement. Just as he took a few steps in the direction of the trees her voice called out to him.

"Come on Walker! It's time to get home!"

He waved absently in her direction and narrowed his eyes, trying to see what was lurking behind the trees.

"Walker, come on or I'm making you deal with this child when he has another tantrum."

He sighed, his shoulders drooping. "Fine," he muttered then turned toward her. "I'm coming," he yelled as he began jogging toward the young mother and her fussy little boy.

…

Beverly sighed and plopped down on the couch. "I am exhausted," she said closing her eyes and rubbing the back of her neck.

"_You're_ exhausted?" Walker sank down next to her and leaned his head back on the couch cushion. "That was the longest ninety minutes of my life."

She laughed at his incredulity. "You forget, Walker. I do this every day of my life…_alone_. I'm exhausted every second of every day."

"Sorry, Bev, I didn't mean…I wasn't thinking…I…"

"Walker," Beverly said gently. She smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder. "It's fine. I didn't mean…" She sighed. "I'm just a little sad today."

"Why?" he asked, turning his head toward her.

She shrugged her shoulders and offered him poorly constructed half a smile.

"The park," he said a few seconds later. "The smell."

He watched as another half smile flashed across her face. For a few moments he continued to stare at her, contemplating if he should tell her what he saw just before they left the park. As the sadness settled in her eyes, he took a deep breath.

"Bev," he said in a low voice. "I have something I want to tell you. But I need you to keep a level head about it. You can't blow it out of proportion. Okay?" He lifted himself from the couch and stood directly in front of her.

She eyed him suspiciously, trying to figure out where he was going.

"Beverly," he said with warning.

She immediately recognized and understood the significance behind the tone in his voice, knowing if she didn't agree he wasn't going to tell her. "Okay, okay," she responded, her eyes widening slightly. "What is it you need to tell me?" she asked, her voice reflecting his seriousness.

He paced back and forth. "It's about the park…and about that smell." He paused for a long moment. "When you were getting Wesley, I think I may have seen something. I saw it right after I smelled…"

"So it wasn't just wishful thinking," she interrupted. "It wasn't just in my head!" She clapped her hands together and covered her mouth as a look of hope sparked in her eyes.

"Beverly, come on," Walker said through clenched teeth as he glanced toward the stairs. "We just got Wesley down for the night. I don't want go through another hour and a half of that."

"Sorry," she responded quietly. Her head dropped as a frown spilled onto her face. "Though you know he'll wake up again."

"I know." Walker sighed. A brief silence passed between them as they each thought of the little boy's torments. "So he's still getting the nightmares?"

"You've only been gone a week," she said staring at him. After a brief moment her severe look dissipated into a sad smile. "He's been having them for a year. They aren't just going to disappear." Beverly exhaled slowly then shrugged her shoulders. "They aren't as often as right after," she continued softly, "but they seem just as bad."

"And you still don't know what's causing them?"

"He won't talk about them."

"Perhaps you should put him in therapy."

"He's been in therapy," Beverly responded angrily as she stood and started to pace. She stopped suddenly then took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. It's just that he's seen everyone here. No one can get through to him."

"What does Doctor Quaice think?"

She looked at him, the shock radiating from her eyes.

"Beverly," he scolded carefully. "I know you. Of course you'd take him to see Quaice. You trust and value his opinion more than anyone. What did he say?"

"The same as everyone else," she responded as she shook her head. "That most effective way to break the cycle is to get him to confront his fears."

"And how are you going to do that?"

She stared straight ahead and breathed in slowly. "Take him into space," she said quietly.

"Bev, you know there isn't a captain out there who will allow a child on to their ship permanently."

"I know of one who might," she whispered.

Walker stalked toward her. "Don't even think about it, Beverly Crusher. That man has been through enough. Get it out of your pretty little head right now. He'll never allow it."

"He owes him! He owes _me_!"

Her tears came faster than a flash flood as she sunk to the ground. She curled into her knees and shook violently from her sobs. When Walker saw her start to fall, he bolted the rest of the way to her. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to his chest, as best he could.

"Shhhh," he murmured into her ear. "It's okay."

He held her for several minutes as her body continued to shake and her tears continued to fall and flood around them. Finally her breathing evened and her head lifted. She sat still for a few moments. As she stared down at her still shaking hands, she tried desperately to compose herself enough to speak. After drawing in a deep breath, she licked her lips and cleared her throat.

"I know he's here, Walker. I can feel it." She looked up at him, her big blue eyes still overflowing with tears. "You know I'm right. You saw it yourself."

"To be fair, Beverly," he responded gently, "I didn't see anything but rustling tree branches."

"But you smelled it. You smelled _him_."

"Okay, I admit I smelled it. But anyone could be wearing that cologne now, Beverly. It's not as close a kept secret as it once was."

"It smells different on him."

Walker sat back on his heels and stared at her, scrutinizing every centimeter of her face. "Why are you so insistent that it was him? Why do you need it to be him so badly?"

"I don't expect you to understand," she said coldly as she stood and wiped her hands down her pants.

"Then why don't you explain it to me?" he asked, following her to the sofa.

"I don't think I can."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

"You're going to have to do much better than that, kid."

She glared at him, her lips pursed and her arms crossed over her chest. "Have you ever lost a husband?" she asked the bitterness of reality stinging her words. "The father of your child?"

"No," he whispered.

"Then I can't do any better than I don't know." Her face fell. She bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders fruitlessly. "I really don't know how to explain it. But I just need to know he's okay. Something in me just doesn't feel complete. With Jack gone and…" She sighed quietly. "I just…I need him."

"Why him, Beverly?"

"Why not him?"

"He can't replace Jack."

She flashed him a sharp look that softened a few seconds later. "I know." Her eyes turned to his skeptical face. "I do. I know that. I don't want him to replace Jack. But…" She shrugged her shoulders. "I…"

"Don't know."

"Yeah."

She stood still as he stared silently. After a few moments he rose from the floor and crossed to her. In one swift movement he pulled her back into his embrace and whispered apologies in her ear.

He was sorry he wasn't Jack. He was sorry he wasn't Jean-Luc. He was sorry neither man was there. He was sorry she had to all of this on her own. He was sorry she was so miserable. And he was sorry he couldn't do anything to help.

Her warm tears slid down his neck as she gripped tightly to his shirt. After several minutes, she'd finally exhausted the last of her tears. She pulled away from him and looked into his kind eyes. A slow inhale filled her as her lips tried to form words of thanks and gratitude. Only nothing came out when she tried to speak.

He smiled at her and took her face in his hands. "You don't need to say anything, Bev. I know."

Her bottom lip trembled as she nodded her head and attempted a smile. He wrapped his arms around her again and hugged her tightly. Several minutes later he pulled back and looked down at her.

"I think I've done enough damage tonight." He smiled weakly and gave her another tight squeeze. "I should probably be going now," he said quietly. "Are you going to be okay?"

She nodded her head again then followed him as he moved toward the door. They exited the house quietly and walked out on to her front porch. When the sky was visible, they automatically looked up toward it. The silence between them lengthened as they each saw what they desired in the stars.

Several moments later Beverly finally found her voice. "Thank you for staying with us tonight," she said softly.

"I can't say I helped."

She smiled. "You did. Believe me, you being here…seeing you…it helps more than you'll ever know."

"But I'm still not him."

"Walker," she admonished.

"I know you care about him, Beverly. You get this look in your eyes when his name is mentioned or when you think about him." He sighed. "And I think I can understand how you're feeling but that doesn't mean I think it's healthy."

"You can think what you want about my '_unhealthy_' feelings. But it's not going to change what's in my heart. He was one of our closest friends. He _is_ one of my closest friends. There's a special place in my heart for him. There always will be." She took in a steadying breath and looked up at her dear friend. "Just as Jack will always have his own special place in my heart and just as you will. That will never change."

"I just want you to be happy and safe, Bev. And not just because Jack was one of my best friends." He smiled at her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I care about you too."

Her eyes closed, tears slipping from behind the closed lids. "I know," she whispered.

He smiled again then bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "I'll see you soon."

"Okay," she answered quietly. She watched as Walker took long strides toward his car. Even once she lost sight of him past the thick bushes, she waited. After a few minutes she heard the telltale sound of his engine starting. Within seconds she saw his headlights turn on and heard the abrasive noise of his horn sounding. She smiled and waved blindly in his direction, knowing he'd expect it even if she couldn't see him.

Once the brightness of his headlights faded she leaned against the railing in front of her. Her eyes traveled up and down the nearly abandoned street. The night was unusually quiet except for the occasional breeze. Taking in a deep breath she looked down at the moonlit front lawn.

"Oh, Jean-Luc," she said as her eyes closed. "I hope you're okay." She bit her lip as the tears slipped silently down her cheeks. Opening her eyes, she looked to the sky again. The stars drew her in, causing an ache deep in her chest. "I wish I could see you right now," she said to the man who was probably galaxies away. "I miss you." Dropping her head back down, she sighed. After another deep breath, she wrapped her arms around her waist then turned to go into the house.

…

Shadows moved and danced in the midnight moon. The breeze breathed in large sighs, weaving a familiar scent through the tree's branches until it reached the sky. Once there it embraced the clouds and twirled through the dark expanse.

Below on the earth one lone figure stood. For a long time it didn't move. It just observed…absorbed its surroundings. Finally it crept forward. As it progressed its shadow stretched ahead, covering the front door of the house before it.

A hesitant fist reached out to lightly knock but just as it was about to make contact the door swung open. The figure paused for a moment before it slid smoothly into the house. It moved through the space reverently, taking in everything…touching every surface…smelling every scent. Everything was as it was supposed to be…as it was remembered.

…

She woke with a start, her chest heaving for caught breath and her skin gleaming with a thin sheen of perspiration. Her heart pounded and her body shook. It was that dream again. The one with _him_.

The room spun as she sat. She steadied herself on the bed and looked around the darkened room. It seemed bigger…colder than ever before. If she had to venture a guess as to why, she would have to say it was that smell…that feeling screaming to her that he was near.

As she continued to sit, her eyes began adjusting to the darkness. Slowly, she began to extract herself from the warm sheets and comforter. A few seconds later she absently grabbed her robe from the bottom of the bed then tiptoed out of her room and down the hall. Pulling on her robe, she made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Once there, she didn't bother turning on the light. She knew this path well; she'd taken it in the middle of the night more times than she'd like to count.

Grabbing the tea kettle from the stove, she swung it into the sink and turned on the faucet. As it filled, she let her mind wander back to the dream. It had felt so real…just as it always had. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that it was in fact just a dream. After a deep breath, she shut off the water then replaced it on the stove and ignited the flame under the burner. While the water warmed she let the stillness of the night engulf her.

The shadows watched her, taking in every part of her.

She looked troubled. She looked tired.

Gone was the ease she had in her youth. Gone were the laugh lines and the sparkle in her eye. Gone was the happiness she embodied just a short year ago.

Her sigh broke through the careful study of her. As the shadow shifted, it happened. _His_ name floated around the silent kitchen, completely shattering all illusions. The shadow swayed and carefully considered the repercussions of the action its impending action.

"Still having trouble sleeping, I see," came a low, hidden whisper.

The figure cloaked in darkness leaned back and switched on the light above the dining room table. Suddenly the room flooded with light. She gasped and jumped then spun toward the voice. Her entire body shook visibly as she stared at him. Reaching up, she rubbed at her eyes. She was sure that they were playing tricks on her.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you," he said softly. His head bent toward the top of the table. "And I'm very sorry for the intrusion…but…"

The sight of him took her breath away. "How…" She took a tentative step forward. "Are…are you real? Are you really here?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"I am," he responded almost inaudibly.

She took another step toward him. "I don't understand," she stated as she took yet another step forward.

"So, you and Walker look cozy," he said, bitterness cutting into his rich voice.

Her slow pace toward him faltered as she tripped on his animosity. The sudden change in his demeanor shook her. When his eyes lifted to hers, the look in them stabbed through any harbored hope she had of an easy reconciliation.

"Excuse me?" she asked, her eyes widening.

"You and Walker," he repeated. His eyebrow rose condescendingly. "You two look happy together. I'm happy for you."

"What are you saying?" she asked, taking a few more cautious steps toward her kitchen table.

"It's perfectly natural to turn to someone you trust in a time like this, Beverly."

Her eyes narrowed as her mouth flattened into a tight line. "I don't think I like your tone," she responded as she stared him down. "Are you implying what I think you're implying? That Walker and I are sleeping together?"

"I'm not implying a thing. I've seen you. I see how you touch. How you lean on him. How you look when he kisses you."

She marched toward him, coming to stand just on the other side of the table. Planting both hands firmly on the top she leaned forward. "I don't know who you think you are or what you thought you saw. But you couldn't be more of an ass…" She inched closer to his face. "…or more wrong," she finished in a calm, low voice. After staring into his cold eyes for a moment longer she stood slowly and crossed her arms over her chest. "And if that's what you think is going on," she continued evenly, "then get out of my house."

"Beverly," he said quickly, a bit of regret singeing the edges of her name.

"Don't '_Beverly_' me, Jean-Luc. Just get out." She turned her back to him and shook her head. "And to think I was worried about you."

Jean-Luc rose from his seat and started to move toward her.

She felt him move and swung back around. "Stop," she said harshly. Straightening up, she backed away from him. She eyed him suspiciously.

"Beverly," he said evenly. "I…" After a long sigh he extended his open palm toward her. "I'm sorry." He cautiously took a step toward her. "I didn't come here to antagonize you."

She shot him a sharp look. Her eyes surveyed him, searching for any kind of deception. After a long moment, she took in a deep breath. "Then why _are_ you here?"

He bowed his head before the blush overtook his face.

"Jean-Luc?"

"I can't really explain it," he said quietly.

Her eyes slowly drifted to his face.

"It's ridiculous, I know. But I just felt this pull…this need to…"

"…make sure you were okay," she finished for him.

Their eyes connected. Each stared at each other with wonder. Slowly they shifted toward one another.

"Yeah," he whispered once they were standing mere centimeters apart.

She stared at his mouth, her breath coming in rapid waves. "Jean-Luc," she whispered.

His knees weakened. "Beverly." Without thinking, he brought his hand up to her face and brushed his fingers down her cheek. "I'm sorry," he murmured. Closing his eyes he leaned toward her and drew in a deep breath.

Instinctually her head bent forward. Time slowed as their foreheads met. She sighed at the emotional currents the connection shocked through her.

"I don't know what to say."

"Why don't you start at the beginning," she responded gently.

"The beginning…"

"Of why you're sorry. Of why you're here." She bit her lip then smiled at him, urging him to keep talking to her.

He nodded with a resigned look on his face. Reluctantly he pulled back and stared into her eyes. With a weak nod, he took a step back and inhaled deeply.

"The beginning," he said quietly as he shook his head. "I don't think that would be such a good idea."

"And why not?"

"You're just going to have to trust me on that one for now."

She nodded as she chewed on her bottom lip. "Will you tell me one day?" she asked quietly as she gently crossed her arms under her chest.

"Perhaps."

Her eyes shone with hope as she closed the distance between them. "I'd like that," she said, her voice crackling with emotion. "Why don't you tell me why you're sorry?"

He started out hesitantly and quietly. But as slowly as they came, the words wouldn't stop. His eyes bore into her as he spoke. He said whatever came to mind.

Stories of missions. Passages from books. Odd foods he'd come across. How beautiful the moon and stars were over the waterfalls on a planet far away. And how much he wished she could see it.

Then came the questions. Questions of her life. Questions about Wesley.

And finally he spoke of Jack. His memories. The laughter. The love.

For hours he spoke only pausing long enough to draw in a quick breath before he was talking again. Finally when he'd exhausted his voice, he stopped and looked to her. He stared into her eyes, scared at how intensely they were looking at him. Standing, he sighed.

"You look sad."

"I've missed you," she responded, not missing a beat.

"And I you," he murmured.

And just like that she was in his arms, clinging to him as if he'd dissipate into vapor.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I should never have left after he died. I should never have ignored your attempts."

"Why did you?" she asked as she looked up at him, her eyes laced with tears.

"It hurt."

"It hurt all of us, Jean-Luc," she said gently. "We could have helped ease your…"

"No. That's not what I meant."

Her eyes crinkled in question.

"Not now," he responded, not needing her to say the words steeping in her chest. "Maybe one day."

"I don't understand."

"You will. Just not now. Please."

She nodded her head. "So what now?"

He shrugged his shoulders, knowing there were still so many demons lurking beyond the surface. But it had been a long day. He was exhausted both mentally and physically.

"I think you should get some sleep," she suggested. "You look like you haven't slept in a year or two."

He smiled as his head lolled down and to the left.

"You will stay, won't you?"

His eyes lifted. He searched the depths of her blue to make sure she wasn't just making a concession to appease him. What he now saw there shocked him.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Beverly. So much has happened. I don't want to…press our luck."

She laughed lightly. "You just don't get it, do you?" She shook her head. "And the sad thing is you probably never will. Will you?" She paused for a second before she took his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. "Come on."

He allowed her to drag him up the stairs. After all, he never was able to say no to her. And with a slight twinge of heaviness in his heart, he knew he never would.

With a heavy sigh, he followed her to the guest room that was nestled between her own and her son's. He closed his eyes tightly as the nerves in his stomach knotted. He couldn't do this. He couldn't be this close to her…couldn't lie in bed knowing she was on the other side of the wall…couldn't live with the guilt of the pain he'd caused her.

"Beverly," he started.

"Not another word, Jean-Luc," she said as she gently placed her finger over his lips. "I know you're trying to guilt yourself out of staying here and I know you're going to try and guilt me out of letting you stay. So you're not to say another word. You're staying." She smiled warmly at him then squeezed his arm, reinforcing her comment. "I'll be right next door if you need anything."

Walking toward the hallway, she smiled to herself then turned around to look at him. Her eyes travelled over his body to his face. She took in every part of him, trying to convince herself that this wasn't a dream. Without a word, she turned and walked out of the room. Just as she turned to close the door, she popped her head through the opening and smiled brightly.

"Good night, Jean-Luc," she said in a whisper. "Sweet dreams."

Then she was gone, only the whisper of her perfume lingering in the air. He breathed it in then sighed. Deep breaths filled his lungs then emptied in a slow cadence. He couldn't calm his wild heart. It beat furiously. It screamed furiously.

It was furious.

How could he put himself in the position?

He closed his eyes and cursed his weakness. When he'd traveled to Earth a week ago he'd sworn he wouldn't become enraptured by her again. He promised himself he would seek out Walker and inquire about her then move on with his leave. But when he went to see Walker, he saw her and every plan and promise flew from his mind.

For days he watched them. Watched her. His greedy eyes took in every one of her features, reacquainting himself with them.

She was still beautiful. She could still disarm him with one smile. She still held his heart in her hand.

With a sigh, he flopped down on the bed and closed his eyes. He hoped sleep would quickly claim his tortured conscience and for once let him rest. But he knew it was useless. He hadn't had a good night's sleep since the moment he met her.

As he suspected, sleep came in choppy segments. Each time he awoke in the night he found himself disoriented. This room was too familiar. It held too many memories…too many ghosts.

At one point when he jolted from sleep, he swore he saw Jack Crusher standing at the end of his bed like the bloody ghost of Christmas past. But after he shook the haze from his eyes, he realized it was merely an abandoned coat stand. He almost laughed at the absurdity.

The next time he woke, he rolled over to look at the clock and realized that the sun had finally risen. With a grateful sigh, he pulled himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Once he was finished he crept downstairs quietly. He convinced himself it was so that he would not disturb her not because he was trying to avoid her. But when he reached the kitchen he saw that she was already awake. He cleared his throat gently then bowed his head, not ready to meet her eyes quite yet.

"Good morning," she said once she turned around. "Did you sleep well?"

Unable to climb over the wall of silence that stood between them, he simply nodded. She smiled knowingly then turned back to the stove.

"Why don't you have a seat," she said without turning around. "I'll fix some breakfast."

She heard the chair scrape the tiled floor as she busied herself around the stove. A few moments later, she walked over to the table with two mugs in hand.

"It will be a few more minutes until everything is ready," she said. "I'm afraid I wasn't expecting you to wake up so early."

As she lowered herself in to the seat opposite him, she watched him carefully. His face appeared tired but otherwise impassive. With a sigh she pushed one of the mugs toward him.

He picked it up and took a deep breath. As the steam circled around him, he immediately recognized the tangy aroma of his favorite brew. "Thank you," he said before taking a sip.

She smiled as he discovered the cup's contents. While she waited for him to drink some of his tea, she carefully regarded the differences in his face. He seemed tired…older…worried. She wondered what changed within him and why. And for a brief moment considered asking him. But when he placed his mug back on the table, she lost her nerve and settled on something that seemed safer.

"So how long are you home?"

He looked up, his eyes fogged with regret. "Just a few days, I'm afraid."

"Oh."

"I wish it could be more but…"

"I know." She smiled sadly and nodded her head in understanding. "I'm sure your ship doesn't function as well without its captain."

"Beverly."

She looked up and shook her head in an effort to hide her imminent tears. "I really do understand, Jean-Luc."

"No," he said sharply. "It's no excuse. You're my friend and I don't get home very often. I should make more of an effort to…"

"Please, Jean-Luc," she said with pleading eyes. "Please don't make it harder than…" When her throat suddenly closed up, she just nodded her head in hopes that he'd understand.

And he did. He always would. Especially when it came to her.

After a few moments she nodded her head once more then picked up her mug. Silence again stood between them as they each sipped their tea. Slowly a smile crept onto her face. She tried to hide it behind her tea, but he saw it.

"What?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Something has you over there laughing to yourself." He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head in her direction.

"I was just thinking how ridiculous this was. You know if Jack were here he'd tell us we're acting like a couple of fools."

He laughed. "You know, I think you're right."

"You know I am. Jack never tolerated awkwardness." She paused and shrugged her shoulders. "So I think in his memory we shouldn't either." Her piercing blue eyes turned to his hazel ones. She locked him in a steady gaze and smiled. "Do you agree?"

For a moment, he considered the ramifications of refusing her offer. With a shake of his head, he dismissed his contemplation and looked into her eyes. "I do," he said holding out his hand.

After grasping his outstretched hand, she shook it firmly then smiled. "Good. I'm glad we got that settled."

Once they'd sealed their little agreement with a handshake, Jean-Luc seemed to loosen up. The mere mention of Jack seemed to lessen the tension. He still stood between them, as tangible as a real person but at least they both knew neither had forgotten him.

By the time Wesley was up and about, Beverly and Jean-Luc had fallen into easy conversation. When Beverly saw Wesley enter the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning she stopped midsentence and pulled her son up into her lap. She ran her fingers through the boy's unruly hair then placed a kiss on his forehead.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she said, the gentleness in her voice caressing everyone in the room.

Jean-Luc's breath caught at the sound. He realized at that moment just how much he'd missed her and how much his heart ached when he was around her. He sighed as his heart continued to flutter in his chest.

"Wesley," she said looking into his still sleep face, "do you remember Jean-Luc?" She smiled when he eyed the captain then shook his head. "He is one of daddy..and one of my friends. He used to visit here all the time with Walker."

As soon as Jean-Luc smiled at Wesley, the little boy jumped slightly then buried his face in Beverly's neck. She rubbed her hand down his back then then stroked his hair. After a few seconds she looked up to Jean-Luc and shrugged.

"Honey, what's wrong?" she asked Wesley. "Are you being shy?"

Wesley burrowed deeper and tightened his hold on her. She sighed and got up from the table.

"I'm sorry, Jean-Luc," she whispered as she walked past him. "I don't know what's gotten in to him." Her eyes darted toward her son for a split second. "He's been doing this a lot lately," she whispered. "I'm just going to get him cleaned up then I'll be back down. Help yourself to anything."

Once he was left to his own devices, he exhaled audibly. He loved being around her again but was severely unprepared for the hurt. It shouldn't have been a surprise to him. He'd lived with it for as long as he'd known her but somehow over the course of a year he'd suppressed it so deeply that he'd forgotten.

He'd forgotten about the flame…the burn…the constant, intense pounding ache.

When she returned several minutes later, she caught him so lost in thought that she startled him when she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Sorry," she said with a chuckle. "I didn't mean to startle you."

He looked around her, his eyes searching for her son. "Where's Wesley?"

"Upstairs playing in his room."

"Is he okay?"

She nodded her head. "Just a little shaken up, I think."

"Because of me?"

"I think he remembers you but he's not quite sure from where which for a six-year-old is very unsettling." Her shoulders lifted briefly. "I also may have made his anxiety about the situation worse when I mentioned his dad."

Jean-Luc turned a curious stare to her.

"He, uh, he still hasn't fully accepted Jack's death," she stated. "And before you say anything, I know it isn't healthy but I just…I don't know. It just breaks my heart to see him hurting and not be able to do a thing to stop his suffering."

He cleared his throat and slid his chair closer to hers. "I'm not very good with children," he said slowly.

"I know you aren't, Jean-Luc. I don't want you to think that I expec…"

He stopped her by lifting his palm to stop her. "As I was saying, I'm not good with children _but_ I can…I'd like to try and help. Just tell me what I need to do."

Her eyes narrowed. "You really want to?"

"Of course," he said taking her hands in his.

She smiled and gave his fingers a light squeeze. "Well alright then." Standing she held her hand out to him and waited for him to take it, which he did without any questions or hesitation. "Come, I'd like to reintroduce you to someone." Her radiant smile flashed across her face as she led him up the stairs.

…

Jean-Luc and Wesley's reintroduction didn't go as smoothly as Beverly would have liked but it also wasn't a complete disaster. For that she was thankful. She needed her son to accept the captain in his life because she somehow knew it would be the captain who would teach her son what it was like to be a man.

The thought brought a lightness to her heart. If Wesley couldn't have Jack, he would have the next best thing. Jean-Luc Picard.

After the first few tense moments with Wesley, Jean-Luc was skeptical that he would be any help with the little boy. But every time he would look to her and express his worries, Beverly would reassure him and tell him he was doing everything just fine. He'd relax his shoulders and turn back to Wesley who would stare for a few seconds then contentedly return to his puzzle.

As the days passed, Jean-Luc felt Wesley's attitude toward him shift. Slowly the boy started adjusting to the captain's presence and began to open up to the older man. Jean-Luc also found himself more at ease as he fell into a rhythm with the Crushers. In fact, the day he realized he was quite content and happy with them he was so surprised he had to sit.

Hours later on his day of this realization she found him in the living room, staring at the dormant fireplace.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she sat next to him.

He smiled over at her and nodded. "More than," he responded simply.

Her brow furrowed as she watched him but she didn't intrude on his thoughts. Instead she settled into the easy silence she'd come to love. There was something about his presence that soothed her restless soul.

She sighed and leaned back on the couch. The muscles in her exhausted limbs slowly loosened. As her breaths slowed, her eyes began to droop and her head started to dip.

He watched her fight sleep for several minutes. It was a valiant battle but in the end she lost. With a soft chuckle he brushed his fingers through her hair and murmured a soft lullaby that he'd learned from his mother.

A smile formed on her lips as she exhaled softly and curled onto her side. Little by little she edged her way toward him, seeking his warmth and his protection. Finally her semi-conscious body found his. As she wrapped around him, her sigh joined his in perfect sync.

…

**TBC…**


	2. he's the air i would kill to breathe

**A/N: **Okay kids. Here's the next installment. Thank you to all who have commented and even those of you who haven't. It's nice to know that people are enjoying. Hopefully you'll like this next bit. I did read through it but I'm so tired (working 7 days a week will do that to a person) so please forgive me any errors.

…

**2. he's the air i would kill to breathe**

When Beverly woke the next morning she immediately felt her body's protests about how she'd chosen to sleep the night before. The lumpy cushions beneath her caused her head, her neck, her back…her _everything_ to ache. She silently cursed both the couch and her body. As she stretched in an almost wasted attempt to loosen her muscles, her hand hit something that was soft yet firm.

"What the…" she started to say as she turned her tired eyes. An amused smile immediately emerged on her face as she realized what she'd struck. Leaning closer, she took in his strong features. They seemed gentler when he was relaxed. She drank them in, knowing she didn't have many opportunities like this one.

She promised herself she'd just look but after a few seconds she couldn't help herself. Reaching over, she brushed her fingertips across his cheek. He leaned into her touch and sighed contentedly which in turn made her smile brighten.

"Jean-Luc," she whispered. "Wake up, sleepy head."

He stirred slightly then placed his hand over hers. It was warm and inviting. She couldn't stop the shiver that shot up her spine. After stroking his thumb over the top of her hand a few times he murmured to her in French.

Her eyes narrowed in concentration. It had been quite a while since she'd heard or spoken French. After a few failed attempts she realized he was asking for more time. She laughed.

"Jean-Luc," she said again.

Her soft voice sounded so close despite the haze that surrounded him. He spun, searching for her…reaching for her. But she kept dissipating into the fog around him. Suddenly he felt something soft brush across his skin. Not willing to let it escape, he quickly trapped it with his own hand. With his other, he reached out for her again, expecting cold vapor but hoping for warmth. To his surprise, he connected with warm flesh. He gasped and forced his heavy eyelids apart. The sight before him was a beautiful dream. He smiled.

"Bonjour," she said. "Ça va bien?"

He blinked up at her several times before his smile was replaced with a confused scowl.

"Or perhaps not so good," she teased. Using her free hand, she traced the wrinkles his frown formed. "Come on, it can't be that bad waking up next to me." She laughed as his scowled deepened. "And I thought I was a bad morning person. Come on, I'll fix some coffee." Lifting herself off the couch, she stretched again.

His eyes followed the lines of her body. They were as magnificent as he remembered. In fact, they could be even more enticing now than when he first met her.

"Jean-Luc?" she asked, leaning toward him. "Are you okay?"

He cleared his throat and looked up at her with a smile. "Yeah." He shook his head. "I'm just a little slow to wake up today I suppose," he said with a short chuckle. "I guess I'm getting a little old to be spending the night on the couch."

She laughed and nodded her head.

"Here, let me help with breakfast," he said as he stood and followed her into the kitchen.

They had breakfast ready and on the table by the time a sleepy Wesley wandered downstairs complaining about being hungry. The three of them sat down and ate breakfast while discussing what they could do for the day. Once breakfast was over, Jean-Luc stood to help Beverly as Wesley ran upstairs to get ready for the day, which was ultimately spent exploring everything and anything.

…

In the following days nothing much changed about their mornings with the exception of Beverly waking up on the couch with Jean-Luc. Their relationship transformed into an easy routine. Jean-Luc was surprised when he realized he'd really come to depend upon it. It brought forth a feeling of tranquility that he'd never experienced before. And he found he didn't want to leave its warm embrace. It was so simple and comfortable. Two things he never thought he'd want in his life.

After they'd woken for the day, they'd fix breakfast. When everything was prepared they'd sit down like a family to eat and discuss their plans for the day. Then they'd go off in their separate directions only to meet once again for dinner. After dinner Jean-Luc and Wesley would help with the dishes before the trio settled in the living room by the fire until it was bedtime.

The house would fall silently into darkness until the nightly shriek would ring into the air. It was like hearing the red alert klaxons for Jean-Luc, sending him in a full sprint to the little boy's room where he would see Beverly already curled around her son.

The two would comfort him and soothe him as best they could. But night after night Wesley still awoke with terrifying dreams. Sometimes they would calm him a few minutes then share a cup of tea. Other times it would take hours and each would barely make it to their beds before they'd passed out.

It was a tiresome process and they endured the best they could. But eventually it began to complicate their otherwise peaceful existence. Wesley was the one thing they fought about often. Jean-Luc wanted Beverly to do something to force Wesley to talk about his nightmares. And Beverly, having already talked to dozens upon dozens of doctors and specialists as well as being one herself, wanted to wait until Wesley was ready to talk about them. So as not to traumatize him further, she repeatedly explained.

Beverly either won every argument or at least put a stop to it until Jean-Luc got upset enough to bring it up again.

But despite the minor day-to-day conflict and general lack of sleep, Jean-Luc loved being there with Beverly and Wesley. He loved seeing her face first thing in the morning and the last thing before he went to bed. He loved spending time with her. He even loved getting to know Wesley. In actuality, the biggest surprise to him was how much he enjoyed the young boy's company. He found they could spend hours putting together puzzles or playing games.

There was really only one thing that he regretted about this new situation. The stars. No matter how fulfilling his time with Beverly and Wesley were, he occasionally found himself staring up into the sky late at night and wondering what he'd be doing that exact moment if he were in space.

So as the date of his imminent departure grew nearer, he became more and more conflicted. Though he did miss his stars, he started to fall into a deep depression over leaving. Beverly of course recognized the change in his demeanor and knew why. Determined not to let him wallow in his guilt or sadness for leaving, she tried her hardest to lessen it as best she could. But she could only do so much.

Then all of the sudden it was the afternoon before Jean-Luc was to leave. Emotions were high and tense in the house so as a surprise, Beverly decided to take a half-day off work. She even picked Wesley up early from school, hoping it would lighten Jean-Luc's spirits. But when she got home she was stunned to find Jean-Luc had all but disappeared. She called and checked everywhere he could be but found nothing. As the realization sunk in her heart sank.

He'd done it again.

He'd snuck out without saying a thing. To her or to Wesley. The familiar feeling didn't sit well with the doctor. As the empty minutes passed she became angrier and angrier until she decided it was time to give Jean-Luc Picard a piece of her mind.

After sending Wesley up to his room to play, she made her way to the study. Just as she sat down to her computer the front door opened. Curious as to who would be letting themselves in at this time of day she got up to investigate. The sight she found in her foyer surprised her.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was under the impression that I was a guest," he answered with a flicker of sarcastic humor. "But if I misunderstood I can…"

"I thought you left."

His eyes softened. "I'm sorry," he said as he carefully approached her. "I wanted it to be a surprise. But as it turns out, cashing in some favors took a little longer than I expected."

"Favors?"

He nodded. "It looks like you're going to be stuck with me for a few more weeks. That is, if it's okay with you. If you have other plans I can stay with someone else or at headquarters or there's always Walker…"

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "You're welcome to stay here. You always are." She smiled and took several steps toward him. Then without thinking it fully through, she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "I'm glad you're staying," she whispered into his ear.

"Me too," he murmured back.

…

That night no matter how much she tried Beverly couldn't keep the smile from her lips. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what made her so happy about him staying but she knew it made her heart beat a little faster. She hadn't realized just how much she enjoyed his company until it was time for him to leave. Now he was going to be here for a while longer…implanted into her daily life.

He was staying.

And stayed he did. Suddenly a few weeks became a month and a month became two. As they were approaching the third week of the third month, Jean-Luc got a priority one call from Starfleet. He and Beverly shared a tense look for a moment before he went to take it.

"I'll just be a moment," he said as he handed the dinner dishes to her. "Please start without me."

Beverly finished setting the table and served Wesley then stared at the study door.

"Mommy?" Wesley asked with a mouth full overflowing with mashed potatoes.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," she responded absently without looking at him.

Wesley nodded then chewed and swallowed his potatoes. "Mommy?" he asked again.

"What is it, Wes?" she asked with a sigh.

"How come you look mad?"

Her features softened as she finally tore her eyes from the door. "I'm not mad, honey," she said, turning to her son with a smile.

"You look it. As soon as the 'puter said Starfeet, you got mad."

"It's Star_fleet_. And I promise I'm not mad, sweetie," she responded with another smile. She reached over and gently cupped his cheek. "Now eat."

Wesley shrugged his shoulders and nodded then began to eat the rest of his dinner. Several minutes later when Jean-Luc exited the study, Beverly just knew. It was time to let him go. She attempted a smile then nodded her head. Her eyes moved to Wesley then back to Jean-Luc.

"We'll talk about it later," she said.

Jean-Luc nodded sadly then sat down at the table and silently ate his meal.

Several hours, two puzzles, and three stories later Wesley was put in bed. Once he was tucked in for the second time an hour later, Beverly walked into the living room. The fire blazed warmly in front of her. She inhaled the smell of the smoke and burning wood then released it slowly.

"They want you back, huh?" she asked gently.

"Is Wesley okay?"

She sighed. "Another dream." As she bit her lip, she waited but the inevitable agreement to her question didn't come. "You didn't answer my question."

His shoulders slumped as he exhaled slowly. "Yes. I'm afraid they want me back."

Nodding, she moved to sit next to him. "Is it selfish of me to not want you to go?" she asked as she stared into the fire.

He chuckled softly and opened his arm so she could snuggle up to his side as was their custom. "Not as selfish as me wanting to stay."

"How do you figure that?" she asked, turning her head to look up at him.

"I have an entire starship of people who are depending on me and yet I don't care. There's nothing I want more than to stay here." He laughed. "I never thought I would ever say something like that."

"The great Captain Picard…domesticated." She turned her face toward his chest and breathed in his scent.

He laughed again. "Yeah," he sighed.

"So when do you leave?" When he hesitated, she looked up at him. She immediately knew why he'd remained silent. "Next week."

"Yeah…I'll have to…"

She nodded her head quickly so he wouldn't continue. As she bit her lip, she looked away from him. Her breath shook as she exhaled.

"Are you able to stay until after…"

"I will be here, Beverly," he answered solemnly. "I made sure I'd be here. I'm not leaving you alone on…"

"Okay," she interrupted quietly. "Thank you."

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into an embrace. His whole being engulfed her, lulling her into a false sense of security. She sighed. Watching him go was going to be more difficult than she thought it would be.

…

Several days later Jean-Luc came home with a wide smile. He walked up to her in the kitchen and kissed her cheek as she stirred something that smelled delicious on the stove. Her mouth formed a surprised grin as she turned to look at him.

"Now what has you in such a good mood?" she asked as she wiped her hands on a dish towel. "And what was the kiss for?"

"I just got some good news."

"Oh?"

He nodded his head. Suddenly as he remembered one of his surprises, he straightened up and brought his arm from behind his back. He stretched his hand out toward her. "These are for you."

"Flowers? For me?" she said taking them from him. "Why?"

"For being a lovely host these last few months. Just a small token of my gratitude."

"Oh Jean-Luc. You didn't have to."

"But I wanted to. Soon I'll be on a starship so…"

She nodded her head sadly. "Well thank you. They're lovely."

"So, about my good news."

Her heart pounded as she walked to the sink. She wasn't sure if this good news would be as good for her as it was for him. As the water slowly filled the vase in her hands, she ran through a list of things he could possibly tell her.

"Beverly?" he asked when he noticed her attention drifting.

"Yeah?"

"Don't you want to hear my news?"

"Of course," she answered with a hint of dread evident in her eyes.

"They pushed back the mission. So I'll be able to stay a week longer than anticipated."

She had to smile at his boyish enthusiasm. "That's wonderful, Jean-Luc," she managed to say.

Though she was happy he could stay longer, in the end it didn't really make much of a difference in her heart. He would still be leaving. But she could never say that to him, especially when he looked so excited. So she smiled and hugged him, determined to make the best of the time she had left.

…

All three enjoyed their extra time together as best they could. But once again the clock became their enemy. Soon Beverly and Wesley would have to say goodbye and Jean-Luc would have to return to his rightful place among the stars.

As the days passed, time also brought forth a new challenge. Neither Beverly nor Jean-Luc mentioned it. Neither was really sure what was okay to say…or really what to say at all. So as a result their days began to slowly fill with silenced tension.

On the morning time could no longer be silenced, she woke quietly. It seemed no different than any other day but she knew it was. With a long sigh, she went to Wesley's room and started getting him ready for their excursion.

At breakfast their eyes rarely met. The clank of the forks and the slight crunch of food interrupted the silence but that was the only noise in the room. Even the young boy sat solemnly in his seat with his head bent.

As soon as everything was eaten, Jean-Luc rose from his seat and cleared the dishes as he'd done for the past few months. It was the only thing he could think to do. He kept thinking about how much he wanted to disappear down the drain as he rinsed the dishes. He shut his eyes; this was so difficult.

His heart sank.

This had to be even more difficult for her. He looked over to the table to see her sad blue gaze on her son. They spoke quietly. As Wesley said something in a whisper, she smiled delicately.

A moment later she reached over and ran her fingers through his hair then leaned in to kiss his forehead. She smiled and tried to soothe the worried look from his face. After another pass of her hand through his hair and another kiss she got up from her seat and held out her hand.

"You ready?"

He looked up at her. A moment of hesitation loomed between them before he nodded his small head. He took her hand and stood.

"Alright," she said softly. "Let's get you bundled up. It's cold out there."

She glanced toward Jean-Luc before she left the room, with the hopes he'd be looking in her direction. Though his body was angled toward her, his eyes were cast down. "Come on, Jean-Luc, ask," she silently urged. When his eyes remained glued to the floor she sighed and left the room.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel her stare on him. After these few months he had become so aware of her presence that she almost felt like a piece of him. It didn't matter what he was doing, the moment her eyes were on him he felt it. It was unnerving. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why it was occurring.

A few seconds later, the sound of her voice broke him from his musings. A short laugh erupted from his mouth; he could tell exactly what she was doing. She was stalling…for him. Waiting for him to make up his mind. In his heart, he knew she wanted him to come as much as he wanted to go.

With a long sigh he walked toward her voice. Coming to a stop several paces from the pair he took a moment to observe her. As she crouched down in front of her son, she spoke softly while winding a scarf around his neck. When she reached over and picked up his coat from the floor next to her she inhaled deeply then smiled. She knew Jean-Luc would come to his senses.

"Be safe," he said in a hoarse voice.

The smile disappeared as she sighed in frustration and closed her eyes. Three short seconds later she cleared her throat. "Will you go with us?" she asked as she looked up from buttoning Wesley's coat.

"Do you want me to come?" he asked, surprised at her forwardness.

"Jean-Luc, you were his best friend." Another sigh emptied from her chest.

"I know but that doesn't mean…"

"I want you to come," she interrupted as she stood.

"Okay," he responded with a pause, "then I'll come."

Beverly smiled and nodded her head then walked silently out the door. As she moved toward the car, he followed closely behind her and took the driver's seat when he saw her walk to the other side of the vehicle. Once everyone was buckled in, Jean-Luc started the car and started driving to their destination.

They rode silently down the twisting road. It was gray and cold. Much cooler than it should have been for early spring. Frost clung to the air with its last breath, refusing to let color back into the world.

When the car stopped, the three got out and began to climb up the hill. The air seemed even thinner and harsher at the top. It cut like a knife as the breeze kissed over them. Beverly looked down at her son and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Go ahead, Wes."

He looked up to his mother, confusion in his eyes.

"Go and talk to your dad. Jean-Luc and I will stay here."

His little brow furrowed. "What do I say to him?"

Beverly bent down in front of the six-year-old and smiled. "You say whatever you want, honey. Tell him about school. Tell him about your puzzles. Tell him about your dreams. Okay?"

After a moment of contemplation, his face relaxed. "Okay," he said. "And you won't listen?"

She shook her head. "No I won't listen. This is just between you and your dad."

Wesley nodded. "And you won't listen too?" he asked Jean-Luc.

"I promise I won't," Jean-Luc responded, holding up his hand as if taking a solemn oath.

The two adults watched as the little boy walked toward the headstone. When he reached it his little hand stroked the top of the stone as he spoke quietly. Every now and then the breeze would carry a few words or phrases in their direction but they were both true to their word and didn't listen.

"What do you think he's saying?" Jean-Luc asked her after a few minutes.

"I don't know," she answered with a wistful smile. "They always had their own special language and understanding. Even when Wes was a baby. They were in their own little world."

"That must have been lonely for you." He stared at her profile as her flaming hair danced around her face.

"I had my medicine, my research, my patients. And I never doubted they loved me."

"Did you love him?"

"Jack?" she asked without looking at him.

"Yeah."

"Of course I did."

"More than…" He stopped abruptly once he realized his assumption.

"More than what?" she asked.

"Nothing."

Turning toward him, she looked at his strong profile. "More than who, Jean-Luc?"

"Nevermind," he said quickly. "I wasn't thinking."

She stared at him for a few moments then decided she really didn't want to know the rest of his statement. With a sigh she turned back to see Wesley running back to them. She knelt down and opened her arms. Wesley ran directly into them.

"What's the matter, baby?" she asked as he turned his tear stained face into her neck. She stroked the back of his head and looked up to Jean-Luc who only shrugged. "Wesley? What's the matter? Why are you so upset?"

"It's not the same," came his muffled reply.

"Not the same as what?"

"When he was here." He sniffled and tightened his arms around her neck.

Her heart broke. "Shhh," she hushed into his ear. "It's okay, Wes." Lifting him, she rocked him back forth and tried to calm him. "Why don't you go," she said to Jean-Luc. "We'll be fine."

Jean-Luc looked at her for a long moment then walked off toward the grave of his best friend. Once he was there he walked the perimeter a few times and tried to think of what to say. When he finally opened his mouth, the words flowed freely.

"Hey Jack, it's me. It's been exactly a year since your…" His voice faded off as he shook off the words. Death. It still stung at the back of his throat. "I'm sorry, Jack." He bent his head and placed his hands on the cold stone. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. And I'm sorry for…for being here…with them…with her when you can't."

He looked back toward Beverly and Wesley. Wesley was still clinging to his mother but Jean-Luc could tell he was beginning to settle down. He smiled sadly.

"They're remarkable," he continued, "but I'm sure you know that already. I can't help but…" He sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking to you about this."

The remainder of his time was spent in silent repentance. There was so much to say…so much for which he should apologize. But he didn't know how to explain the pull he felt toward Beverly. The guilt settled in his gut as he stood at the foot of Jack's grave and stared at the inscribed headstone. Without another word, he turned away and returned to Beverly and Wesley.

"All done?" she asked as he approached.

He nodded. "If you want to go, I'll stay with Wes."

"Thank you," she replied as she handed the now peacefully sleeping Wesley to him. "I'll just be a moment."

As she walked into the distance, he watched. Tension settled in his stomach as the conflict over his predicament rolled in waves over him. It was wrong. He knew it.

But he couldn't help it.

Not too long later, she reappeared at his side. He could tell she'd been crying. Her eyes were slightly puffy and bloodshot but he didn't mention it, knowing if she wanted to talk about it, she would. With a nod, he motioned to the car with his head. She nodded in response then followed him down the dirt path.

The rest of the day was quiet. They'd laid Wesley down for a much-needed nap as soon as they returned to the house then settled in the living room. After he'd lit a fire, she turned to him and drew in a breath.

"Thank you for coming today."

"You're welcome."

"And thank you for being here these past few months. Your presence has been such a comfort. I don't know what I would have done without you." She smiled.

"You would have managed," he replied. "You always do."

"I know. But it's nice to not have to be so strong all the time. It's nice to have someone to lean on occasionally. So thank you." As if to demonstrate, she leaned toward him. After placing a gentle kiss on his cheek she relaxed against him.

He breathed in slowly, savoring the feel of her lips on his flesh. With a sigh he turned his head toward hers. "Come with me."

"What?" she asked, pulling back and focusing her eyes on his.

"This mission isn't dangerous. Come with me."

"I can't, Jean-Luc. My work…Wesley…"

"Take a break from your work here. I know for a fact you haven't taken one since…" His eyes clouded for a moment before he shook the haze away.

"Jean-Luc, they'll never let me on a starship. Especially with Wes."

"What if it's a temporary reassignment? My chief medical officer is taking a sabbatical for a few months. I could use someone of your caliber on my ship while he's gone."

"And what about Wesley? I can't just leave him here."

"Wesley could use a change in scenery. Don't you think?" His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. "Besides, I have a few more favors I can cash in," he answered confidently.

Her brow creased. "Those must be some serious favors." She stared at him as he simply smiled at her. "You aren't seriously…"

"Beverly, come with me." He grinned innocently. "If it helps I've already cleared it with Admiral Mira."

She arched her eyebrow at him. "That was rather presumptuous of you."

"He mentioned you'd inquired about bringing families aboard starships." He paused for a brief moment then winked at her. "Were you considering taking a starship posting and smuggling Wesley onboard?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Then why were you asking?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to kill that man." When he failed to respond to her threat against the head of Starfleet Medical, she groaned. "It thought it might help."

"Help what?" he asked before the question had time to process in his brain. As the thought caught up he nodded his head knowingly. "The nightmares."

"Yeah. I suspect that they have to do with space and starships. Especially since these dreams didn't start until after Jack died. His refusal to speak about them and Jack only confirms those suspicions."

He smirked at her analysis.

"What?"

"Perhaps I should also send my counselor on sabbatical. It sounds like you could also handle those duties as well as those of command. I get three highly trained officers for the price of one."

"Stop it," she chided. "We all have to take basic psych classes at the academy and in med school. And you can thank Walker for those infernal command courses."

"He saw your potential, Beverly. Take it as a compliment. I know it was intended as one. Walker doesn't stick his neck out for just anyone. Not even me or Jack…at least when it comes to Starfleet." He saw her look of shock. "Don't look surprised. You're his prized student. In fact, I think he was grooming you to be his CMO. Too bad I got there first. Right?"

"You're incorrigible." She shook her head.

"Say yes."

She groaned and shut her eyes.

"Please Beverly. You already have it in your mind or you wouldn't have asked Mira about it. So please, make me the happiest captain in Starfleet and be my chief medical officer."

A slight smile peeked on to her face as she let out a long sigh. "How could I refuse a proposal like that?" She shook her head.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Yes," she whispered.

He smiled brightly then stood and pulled her up with him. His arms wrapped so tightly around her that she could barely breathe. Yet she'd never felt more content in her life. After a few moments of drinking in the feel of him she pulled back.

"But you're telling Wes," she said with a mischievous look in her eye.

She laughed at his bewildered look then pulled him back into another hug. He groaned at her teasing but once his face was out of her line of sight a huge smile broke out on his lips. This was certainly going to be an adventure he'd never forget.

…

**TBC…**


	3. holds my love in his hands

**A/N: **Thanks to those who let me know what you're thinking about this. I hope you like what you're reading. There's a few more left for this one but we're getting closer. If you feel so inclined, let me know what you think. :)

…

**3. holds my love in his hands, still i'm searching for something…**

As soon as he opened the door the loud din of the cafeteria rushed through him. Though the noise was welcoming he ignored its temptation. His attention was absolute on one thing…one person. Focusing his eyes, he searched the space thoroughly.

Once he'd spotted the streak of red hair among the chaos, he walked quietly up to her small table. He stopped and stared at her for a moment before exhaling slowly. "So, you're really going to do it?" he asked, slight resentment biting at his tone.

Beverly looked up from her coffee. As the familiar face glowered down at her she smiled sadly then sighed. "Don't start with me," she responded with a flippant wave of her hand.

He rolled his eyes then sat down next to her and stared at her profile.

"Who told you?" she asked tiredly with a sigh.

"It's all over headquarters. It's not every day a captain brings a CMO and her kid onboard. Not to mention the fact that this particular CMO is the widow of the captain's best friend. You're the talk of the town, you know."

"People need to mind their own business," she muttered as she took a sip of her lukewarm coffee. Her face distorted in mild disgust as she placed the cup back on the table then pushed it away from her.

He watched her movements closely, taking in her carefully guarded hesitation. "Are you sure you're doing what's right for you, kid?" His brow furrowed. "And what's right for Wesley?"

"Walker," she groaned. "Don't you dare sit there and tell me what's right for me and my child." She paused for a second to think for a moment then took a deep breath and continued. "Why do you always have to focus on the negative? This could be good for us, you know. Maybe this is just what we need. A change in scenery. A chance to confront our demons."

He laughed. "Are you implying that Jean-Luc Picard is one of your demons?" he asked with a suggestive wink.

"Walker," she warned. "I meant Wesley. His nightmares. His fear of space."

His eyes grew serious as he suddenly noticed the look in her eyes as fear, not hesitation. "What's the matter, kid?"

She shrugged dismissively then frowned. "I'm scared," she said quietly. "What was I thinking? Going into space…with Jean-Luc Picard…as his CMO." She shook her head. "I can't do this."

"If there's anyone who can, it's you Beverly Crusher."

She smiled, bending her head to hide the rapidly spreading blush on her cheeks. After a few seconds her eyes shifted to his then narrowed. "The other night Jean-Luc told me something very interesting about you and me. He mentioned that I was your prized student. And that you were grooming me to one day be your CMO. Is that true?"

Walker rolled his eyes. "Jean-Luc needs to learn to keep his damn mouth shut."

"Tell me the truth, Walker. Why did you take such an interest in me all those years ago?"

His head bent forward as he thought. He finally drew in a breath and straightened his neck. "Because you're special, Beverly Crusher," he said simply, as he touched his finger to the end of her nose. "There was something in your eyes. This determination, this fight. And that damn stubbornness. I knew you would fight me every step of the way but in the end you'd prove every one of us wrong. And you have. In fact, I'd be willing to bet a month's credits that by the end of this special mission you'll have yourself some nice commendations and a promotion."

Her eyes filled with tears as she leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. Weak sniffs floated up to him as he stroked her hair gently. After a few minutes, she sat up and wiped her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He smiled and placed his hand on her shoulder. "You're more than welcome, Beverly. And you just remember who was responsible for your success when you're a powerful and famous captain." His grin widened at her look of incredulity. Reaching over he gathered her into his arms and hugged her tightly.

She hugged him back. Then slowly she pulled away from him. After rising from her seat, she held her hand out to him then dragged him out of his seat.

"You'll come to see us off tomorrow?"

"Of course I will."

"Good," she said. "Then I'll see you at 07:00 hours, Captain Keel."

"Yes, sir," he replied with a salute.

Beverly smiled and turned to leave.

"Lieutenant?" he called after her.

She spun around to look at her friend. "Yes?"

"In case I forget to say it tomorrow…you be careful up there."

"I will," she said. After one more smile, she turned and left the cafeteria.

…

As promised, the next day Walker came to the transporter station to see off his old friends. He hugged Wesley then Beverly. After wiping away a few of her tears with his thumbs, he wished them luck and told them to keep in touch. She nodded her head then went to the transporter pad to join her son. Once she'd picked up Wesley, she held him tightly to her and waited for the transporter to take them to the ship.

Across the room the two captains stood in front of the console and watched the pair glimmer into blue mist. A weighted silence fell between them as they each stared at the empty space in front of them. A few seconds later, Walker turned to his good friend.

"You better take care of them, Picard."

"You know I will," Jean-Luc responded earnestly without looking at his friend.

"I mean it," Walker said in firm warning.

"I care about them as much as you do, Walker."

"Yes, but I don't have a hidden agenda."

Jean-Luc's head snapped to the man standing beside him. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I know you're in love with her, Picard." Walker forced his steely gaze upon his friend. "And she doesn't need that now. She's confused. She's worried about Wesley. She'll be in a new place with new people. She'll need a friend."

"I am a friend."

"Who's in love with her."

Jean-Luc cleared his throat. It suddenly felt like he'd tried to swallow a mouthful of gravel. As he looked back at his friend, he resisted the urge to fidget awkwardly under the scrutiny of his emotions. "I'll never do anything to jeopardize them," he declared in the strongest voice he could muster.

"I can't help but notice that you haven't denied it."

He turned to fully face his friend. "Because you're right."

"How long?"

"It doesn't matter." He shrugged his shoulders and shifted to face forward again. When Walker said nothing, Jean-Luc sighed and closed his eyes. "Since the moment I met her."

"Hell, Jean-Luc." Walker ran his fingers through his hair. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"She was twenty-years-old, Walker. She didn't want an old man like me."

Walker shook his head and muttered to himself.

"Besides, she had eyes for Jack from the beginning and he for her. I wasn't going to get in the middle of that."

"You're a good man," Walker said as he placed his hand on Jean-Luc's shoulder. "But I swear to god if you hurt her, you'll be answering to me."

Jean-Luc smiled and nodded his head. "Duly noted, Captain Keel. Now if that is all, I should board my ship." He turned to his friend and held out his hand.

Walker swatted it away then pulled Jean-Luc into a bear hug. Jean-Luc coughed with embarrassment but relaxed a few seconds later then clapped his friend on the back. When they pulled back they both laughed.

"Bon voyage, old man," Walker said with a salute. "And good luck."

"Merci, mon amie. Au revoir," Jean-Luc responded as he stepped up on to the transporter pad. After nodding to his friend, he looked to the chief. "Energize."

…

Life aboard a starship was anything but dull. It had taken Beverly about a week to adjust to it and another three weeks to convince Wesley he wasn't going to die just because he was on one. Days were long and the nights were even longer. Especially since Wesley's anxieties regarding space had increased tenfold. It had started the moment they were onboard. Once the shimmers of the transporter stopped, Beverly had walked Wesley to the nearest viewport to show him where he was. As she picked him up to see the stars and the Earth below, Wesley had a full blown meltdown. One that had barely lessened in the following days.

As the days passed, Beverly's heart broke more and more with every glance she took at her son. She hated that she was the one forcing him to endure his living nightmare and she hated that there was really nothing she could do about it. Especially since she'd promised both Jean-Luc and Admiral Mira that her duties as CMO wouldn't be compromised because her son was aboard. Her hands were tied. Short of putting Wesley on the first transport back to Earth they were stuck on the starship until her tour was finished.

Meanwhile in order to cope, Wesley went out of his way to avoid windows and anything that reminded him he was in space. It worked decently during the day but every night the moment his little head hit the pillow the nightmares plagued his mind.

Eventually the stress of it all started to hit Beverly so hard that Jean-Luc began to seriously worry about her. It got so bad that he thought he was going to have to temporarily relieve her of duty. But even a mere suggestion of it garnered him a look of hatred and an angry diatribe of reasons why it was ridiculous to drag her onboard his ship only to relieve her of duty. The compromise stage of the argument took hours and hours but they finally did arrive at one.

He would stay with them in their cabin. It made perfect sense to him. They could take shifts with Wesley when he awoke from a nightmare thus allowing her to keep her day job. _And_, Jean-Luc had argued, since Wesley already used to and trusted him the transition would be easy.

…

_Two and a half weeks earlier…_

"_It's the only possible solution, Beverly," he'd stated plainly._

"_No," she'd responded firmly. She stood up and held her ground. "This is my son we're talking about. This is his war…his battle and I'm going help him fight it the best I know how."_

"_Why won't you let me help you?"_

"_I am not going to let you do this. This isn't your responsibility, Jean-Luc."_

"_I don't see it as a responsibility. I'm just helping the people I love."_

_His words stunned her into silence. Once the initial shock of them began to wear off she stopped and thought about his suggestion for a moment. Then she did the only thing she could do. She nodded her agreement to his proposal then retreated to her room._

_His stance after he'd blurted out the words had been similar to hers. The shock over his_ _lack of control caused him to freeze instantly; he could barely breathe. He hadn't meant to say it out loud but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Luckily for him she either hadn't heard his declaration or had chosen to ignore it. In the end, it had turned out to be the ace up his sleeve. The argument ended that night._

…

"What are you thinking about that has you smiling so smugly?" Beverly asked as she walked over to him and handed him a steaming cup of tea.

"Just an argument we had about two weeks ago."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smirk that pushed onto her lips. "You're smiling about an argument we had?"

"I am."

"I didn't know our arguments amused you so. Perhaps I should start more of them since they make you so happy."

He groaned.

"Don't blame me," she said raising her free hand while offering him her most innocent smile. "You're the one sitting there smiling about it. The only reason for that could be that you enjoy them." Her head tilted to the side for a brief moment. She then smirked mischievously and took a sip of her tea.

"I don't enjoy them, Beverly," he chastised.

"Then why were you smiling?"

He rubbed his upper lip with the tips of his fingers for a few moments then laughed lightly. "Because this particular argument brought me here."

Her eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"It was the one that ended the battle over how to help Wesley with his nightmares and still allow you to keep your day job."

"Oh," she said, her surprise quieting her voice.

"Yes, oh," he teased as he took a sip of his tea.

"We never did talk about that," she said quietly.

"I didn't know you wanted to." He cleared his throat. "At the time you acted as if I hadn't said it then went to hide in your room."

"I wasn't hiding," she said defensively. Her features softened as she sighed. "And it wasn't that I didn't want to discuss it. I just didn't know how to respond." She bit her lip and shifted her eyes to the side.

"It's really okay, Beverly," he said as his posture stiffened. "We don't need to talk about it. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable." He cleared his throat again. "Perhaps…perhaps tonight I should stay in my quarters."

"You want to leave?" Her posture mirrored the one he'd just taken. "After fighting so hard to get here?" she asked, teasing insinuated in her voice.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I don't want to…Beverly, I just thought maybe you needed some time by yourself. I'm always here in your hair. There must be something you'd rather be doing with your free time than spend it with stuffy Captain Picard."

She laughed. "Oh Jean-Luc, don't sulk." Reaching over, she patted his knee. "And don't be ridiculous. There's no one I'd rather spend time with than _stuffy_ Captain Picard."

A smile immediately pushed onto his lips. "Then what shall we do?"

Her face twisted in thought as she rested a long finger against her lips. He was mesmerized by how they puckered in thought. Licking his own lips, he found himself leaning toward her. He was drawn to her like a mosquito to a flame.

"How about you read to me," she said interrupting his hypnotic stare.

He blinked rapidly while trying to form a coherent response. Once he'd recovered, he nodded his head and reached for the large book he'd brought with him from his quarters. "What would you like to hear?"

She sighed longingly then smiled. "Something fun and romantic." As she leaned into him, she sensed his argument. "Don't lecture me, Jean-Luc, just pick something as close to fun and romantic as you can stomach. Surely Monsieur Shakespeare has _some _romantic comedy in there that won't kill you." She tapped the book.

He rolled his eyes at her then turned a few pages and began to read.

…

As the days went on, Beverly and Jean-Luc grew closer and closer. To some they seemed inseparable. There never seemed to be one without the other unless it was during duty hours. Even then they managed to spend an inordinate amount of time together.

And that's how the rumors started.

Though Jean-Luc seemed to be oblivious to the whispers and stares, Beverly noticed each and every one of them. She wanted to say something to him but she wasn't sure how he'd take it. So she tried her best to ignore everything and move on with her days.

Besides there was lots to do. Raising Wesley. Working in Sickbay. Ignoring her feelings.

Maybe she was fooling herself every time she denied that she and Jean-Luc were anything but friends. It was better that way…_safer_ that way. But the harder she tried to ignore it the more it seemed the world conspired against them.

Every time she'd managed to push the lingering stares and whispers to the back of her mind Jean-Luc would do something to bring them right back to the surface. Sometimes it was a look. Sometimes it was a touch. Sometimes it was an inflection in his voice. Sometimes his actions made it nearly impossible for her to deny the rumors. With them, he thrust them squarely into the spotlight, exposing them for all to see.

…

The shriek was like ice through her veins. No matter how many times she heard it, it would _always_ startle her into a panic. She wasn't sure if it was because she was his mother or if it was because she was a doctor or if it was because of some other cosmic reason. But the instant she heard his screams her heart was beating wildly.

When she got to Wesley's door, it slid open quietly like it always did. But unlike every other time, she didn't bolt straight for her son. Instead she was stunned into immobility by the gentle scene playing before her eyes.

Jean-Luc sat on the small bed with the little boy curled in his lap. With a bent head and whispered words, he stroked Wesley's head and rocked him back in forth. The little boy's chest rose and fell rapidly with panicked breaths, his eyes still hazed with the dark shadows of his nightmare.

"Wesley," Jean-Luc said softly as he pulled away to look at him. "Why don't you tell me about it?"

The little boy violently shook his head from side to side. Jean-Luc smiled sympathetically then leaned back in to once again stroke his head and rock him. As Wesley began to calm, Jean-Luc decided to try again.

"I know it's scary, Wes. Space can be a scary, dangerous place. But it can also be a very calming place." Jean-Luc smiled wistfully. "When I was a boy, about your age actually, I used to go out to my backyard and sit out under my favorite tree and gaze up at the stars every night. There was nowhere I wanted to be than up amongst them. For me they held an escape, an adventure, the beautiful unknown."

Wesley's breathing slowed as Jean-Luc spoke. Pulling away, he turned a thoughtful look to the captain. "Escape?" he asked in a weak whimper.

Jean-Luc laughed. "You see, I had an older brother who didn't like me very much. He used to tease me and occasionally hurt me."

"How come your mommy didn't stopped him?"

"I didn't tell her."

Wesley's brow furrowed. "Why?"

With a sigh, Jean-Luc shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't want to admit to my brother that he'd won. And if I told on him, he would have thought he had because my mother stopped him, not me."

"What did you do?" Wesley asked with a tilt of his head.

"I went out in our yard, sat under my tree, and dreamed about exploring the stars."

"Kids tease me too."

Beverly gasped softly at her son's words.

"Does your mommy know?" Jean-Luc asked.

Wesley shook his head.

"Why not?"

"She'd get mad."

"Wesley, she wouldn't get mad at you."

"Not at me. At them."

Jean-Luc laughed, realizing the little boy was much more perceptive than he let on. "But if they aren't being nice to you, you should tell someone."

"You didn't."

"Yes, I know. But in the end it was wrong of me not to. I could have saved myself a lot of suffering if I had."

Wesley frowned.

"What's the matter Wes?"

His eyes narrowed in thought before he straightened up and looked at Jean-Luc. "I don't like when mommy's sad," he admitted quietly.

Wesley bit his lip in a way that reminded Jean-Luc so much of Beverly that it hurt. Anything that reminded him of Beverly hurt because no matter how close they were there were still light years of space between them. He sighed and looked back at Wesley.

"I don't either."

"My dreams make her sad."

"Wes," Jean-Luc said, gathering the boy closer. "Your dreams just worry her because she doesn't know what to do to make them stop. And you know what?"

"What?"

"They're kind of like the bullies at school." Jean-Luc paused for a moment as Wesley's young mind caught up with the analogy. "If you don't tell anyone about them, they won't stop. So why don't you tell me about them? Let me worry about them for you and your mom."

Wesley thought for a moment.

"I promise I'll do everything I can to make them stop, Wes. But you have to tell me what they're about first. Okay?"

Beverly stood in the doorway amazed at the man sitting with her son. It was a side she rarely saw of him. He was more patient and gentle than any person she'd ever seen. In the matter of fifteen minutes, Jean-Luc had somehow broken down all of Wesley's defenses. In fifteen minutes, Jean-Luc made Wesley listen and even consider exposing all of his demons…something that no one, not all of the doctors, not all of the specialists, not Walker, not even she had been able to do. Had this been a few weeks ago, Wesley would have crumpled into a ball and cried himself into exhaustion. Now he sat almost calmly in Jean-Luc's arms, ready to open the floodgates.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Wesley began to speak. He spoke of his father and of the monsters that lurked in space, stealing stars, planets, ships and lives. He told Jean-Luc about how his father would lure him into space only to transform into a shapeless monster that would then envelope him into a dark death.

As Beverly listened to her son's dreams and fears and nightmares her heart ached. She'd wanted to run to him and hug him until she could breathe again but she resisted the urge with everything she had. It was Jean-Luc's breakthrough, the one he'd argued for since the beginning, and she knew he had everything under control.

Hours and rivers of tears later, Wesley stopped talking. He yawned and rested his head on Jean-Luc's chest. "Tired," he said sleepily.

"It's okay, Wes. I think we've talked enough for tonight. Close your eyes and go to sleep."

"Stay," Wesley said. He gripped Jean-Luc's sides tightly when the captain had attempted to stand.

A brief smile flashed on his face before Jean-Luc nodded and relaxed back in the bed. As both of them began to fall asleep, Beverly took a step forward. She picked up the blanket from the end of the bed and covered the sleeping pair.

"I will make this better," Jean-Luc's quiet whisper said as she pulled the blanket up to his neck.

She smiled and gently rested her hand on Jean-Luc's chest.

"I promise…both of you," he said, grasping her wrist with his hand. He opened his eyes and looked straight into hers then smiled. When she leaned over and kissed his forehead then her son's he closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.

…

The next morning when Beverly entered the living area she was startled to see that Jean-Luc was already awake and had breakfast halfway prepared. She smiled at him then crossed the room. Taking in the sweet aromas that filled the space she sighed.

"Anything I can help with?" she asked.

"I think I've got everything under control."

She smirked. "I see."

He looked over to her with a puzzled look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean last night. With Wesley." She sat down then placed her chin in her palm and leaned forward. "Did you sleep in his room all night?"

Jean-Luc bowed his head and blushed. She shook her head.

"Well, what you did worked. I've never seen him calm down that fast after one of his nightmares." She shrugged her shoulders. "It seems you were right all along."

He sighed then took the seat next to her. "If it makes you feel any better I actually think you were right all along. What occurred last night wouldn't have worked all those months ago. Last night was just the right time."

She nodded her head and bit her lip. With her head bent and eyes focused on the table she said in a whisper, "I'm glad he had you." After a moment she lifted her eyes to his. "What are you going to do?"

"Do?"

"To make it better. Your promise. Or don't you remember?"

He smirked. "No I remember." He took a quick breath and looked away for a moment. "What's on your agenda today, Doctor?" he asked with a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Nothing I can't reschedule. Why?"

"Take the day off and spend it with Wesley and me. I think I have an idea."

…

At 09:00 hours, he called down to the Crushers' quarters and asked Beverly to bring Wesley to his Ready Room. She was curious about his plan but didn't ask about it, knowing he would fill her in when the time was right. When they reached the turbolift, she directed it to deck one instead of the Bridge, deciding to enter his office from the hallway.

As soon as she rang the bell, he granted them entrance. Once they stepped into the room, Jean-Luc sent Wesley to the replicator to get some juice. He then leaned in toward Beverly with a smile.

"Here's what we're going to do," he said as he leaned in closely to her with a smile.

His idea was insane. She pulled back and stared at him for several minutes before she could speak.

"Are you insane?" she asked.

"Not at all. I think it will work, Beverly." He smiled again then turned to Wesley. "Wesley, come here and sit with your mother and me." Motioning toward the couch, he took a seat and waited.

Wesley watched carefully as his mother took a seat then crossed the room slowly then sat in between the two adults. He looked from one to the other, his curiosity blooming on his face. Finally Jean-Luc took his juice from him and placed it on the table.

"Wesley?" he started. "How would you like to go on the Bridge?"

The little boy tensed and his eyes widened. He shifted to look at his mother. Beverly placed her hand on Wesley's shoulder and leaned toward him.

"This is a very special honor, Wes," she explained. "Only very special people are allowed on the Bridge." She smiled at him. "Do you know what happens on the Bridge?"

Wesley shook his head.

"That's how the captain and the crew make the ship move. All the important decisions are made there."

His brow furrowed. "Was daddy on the Bridge when he died?"

Beverly sighed and pulled her son into her arms.

"No, Wes," Jean-Luc answered quietly. "He wasn't on the Bridge."

Wesley nodded his head against his mother's chest then mumbled his response.

"What was that?" Beverly asked as she bent her head.

"Okay," Wesley repeated.

Jean-Luc and Beverly shared a smile. Lifting Wesley from her lap, she placed him on the ground then stood and waited for Jean-Luc. Once he was on the other side of Wesley, they each took one of the little boy's hands. Slowly they crossed the room to the exit. As the door slid open, Beverly was very aware that every pair of eyes on the Bridge was on them. She took a deep breath then took a step forward.

Wesley followed meekly behind the two adults, almost using them as a shield. When they got to the center of the Bridge, Jean-Luc slowly walked the little boy to the big chair in the center. He stood in front of it for a few seconds before looking down at him.

"This is my chair, Wes," he said with a nod toward the chair. "Would you like to sit in it?"

Wesley nodded his head.

"Okay." Leaning over, Jean-Luc picked him up and sat him in his chair then moved to the side.

Beverly looked at Jean-Luc and tried to remember to breathe. This was either going to work brilliantly or backfire horribly. With a nod to her friend, she moved to Wesley's other side and placed her hand on the thick leather. Jean-Luc watched Beverly and knew exactly what she was thinking. With a small prayer, he leaned over one of the consoles and entered in a few commands. Then he lowered himself down to Wesley's level and looked into the boy's large brown eyes.

"Wes, I want you to do something for me, okay?"

"Okay."

"And remember that your mom and I are right here to protect you. We won't let anything happen to you. Okay?"

"Okay," Wesley repeated.

With a gentle smile, Jean-Luc leaned forward and whispered into Wesley's ear. "Wes, I want you to say in your loudest voice, 'Computer, viewscreen on' and then watch the front."

Wesley cleared his throat and gripped the arms of the chair. "Computer," he yelled. "Viewscreen on!"

In an instant the blank screen at the front of the Bridge disappeared. Wesley's eyes got even wider right before he squeezed them shut and screamed. He blindly leapt from the chair into the first pair of arms that would catch him. Being the closest, Jean-Luc reacted and clutched the small shaking boy as he cried. He looked up at Beverly with a worried look.

"I guess I was wrong," he said as he stood and placed a protective arm around Wesley.

Beverly took a few steps closer to the pair. When she reached them she placed one hand on top of Jean-Luc's and the other on Jean-Luc's shoulder. She sighed.

"It could have gone either way," she said gently. "Here, let me have him for a moment."

Jean-Luc easily transferred the frightened boy to his mother. Beverly took her son and walked to the front of the Bridge, whispering into Wesley's ear as she ran her hand up and down her back. Jean-Luc watched them protectively, hoping he didn't cause any more damage.

After a few more minutes Wesley lifted his head from Beverly's neck and twisted it around to look out the viewscreen. He gasped as he watched the stars twinkle. Soon he became lost in the swirling atmosphere.

Slowly, Jean-Luc walked up to mother and son. He tentatively placed his hand on Wesley's shoulder and looked at his face. "What do you think?" he asked. "Do you like it?"

Wesley slowly nodded his head. He couldn't tear his eyes away. After a while, he started to fidget in his mother's arms so Beverly lowered him to the floor. He took a few steps closer to the viewscreen then sat down on the carpeted ground and continued to watch the stars in front of him.

Beverly stood behind him amazed at the transformation. Crossing her arms over her chest, she smiled and shook her head. Jean-Luc took a step closer to her and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"You think he'll be okay?" he asked.

She turned her smiling face toward him and just stared into his eyes. In that moment she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and hug him but she could still feel the itching on the back of her neck. She knew everyone was still keeping a very watchful eye on them. Realizing she was leaning closer and closer to him, she straightened up and cleared her throat.

"Yeah," she whispered, "I think he will." Not being able to resist any long, she reached out and placed her hand on his bicep. "Thank you."

He covered her hand with his and nodded. "It was my pleasure." He looked back to Wesley. "He can stay as long as he needs to."

Beverly laughed. "You may regret saying that."

Jean-Luc's eyes narrowed in question.

She looked to her son for a moment before looking back to the captain. "I've seen that look in his eyes before. He'll stay here until someone drags him away."

The captain threw his head back in laughter. "Then so be it."

…

**TBC…**


End file.
